


For want of a horse

by TrishaCollins



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BAMF Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Gen, Protective Cor Leonis, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-09-26 13:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20390434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishaCollins/pseuds/TrishaCollins
Summary: In the chaos of the battle Cor was responsible for four things once the queen died. First and foremost his king and prince, second and only slightly less important the royal children of Tenebrea. Lunafreya gazed into the eyes of the future and knew what she must do. Not even the gods expected the protection or one of Lucis' finest soldiers as she makes her way into captivity.





	1. Chapter 1

There were times in a fight he and Clarus moved beyond words, beyond thought. So the fact that they both saw Regis lose his grip on Lunafreya at the same moment and both reacted. He shoved the young prince into Clarus' grasp, trusting the older man to make it through the army to Regis and their prince, and to keep Ravus safe while he got the princess to safety.

He was airborne before the gesture had completed, hitting Glauca from behind and sending the man to the ground. The soldiers turned, distracted, and he moved to scoop up Lunafreya - toss the errant, supremely Important child over his shoulder.

She was as still as one spellbound, head bowed, tears trickling down her cheeks in silent trails. Rooted to the spot.

The soldiers encircled them completely and he bared his teeth, prepared to fight through. 

"No." The child grabbed his wrist squeezing will the more force that a twelve year old girl should be capable of. He stilled on reflex, caught by the fierce look in her eyes. Tears, yes, but also understanding and fierce resolve. "We surrender."

He had never backed Down from a fight. Not in his life. Never considered it. But at her words he found his sword lowering - dropping until the tip rested against the soil.

She gave him a grateful look, placing herself between him and Glauca. Which took more courage than he would have granted her upon meeting. The general looked furious, part if his armor melted and fused to the skin beneath it. Shoulder bone bared.

"Your king escapes, Leonis." The hulking figure growled.

"So he does." He sheathed his sword, hand gripping Lunafreya's shoulder.

Glauca chuckled, a deep resonate sound that clearly caused some pain. "if you think you will be granted mercy-"

"He will." Lunafreya's voice was stern. "His safety and that of the surviving nobles are my price." There was silence all around them, and then the faint sound of clapping.

The chancellor stepped out of the shadows, hat tilted to cover his face. 

He tensed, Lunafreya's hand like iron around his wrist. 

"She figured it out quicker than I imagined, eh, general?" Chancellor Izunia murmured, circling them and parting the soldiers with his mere presence. "A very bold move, princess. And what, pray tell, shall we be granted in return?"

Lunafreya pulled herself up. "My cooperation with seeing the prophecy fulfilled."

The smile she received in return was full of too many teeth.

*~*

The city was dark, a sort of grimy tint to even the sunlight. He hated it. Everything felt too close.

The feeling likely had something to do with the constant guard posted around them. In was free to roam - technically. Or so the Emperor (or Izunia, who seemed more and more to hold the real power) had stated. In practice his every move was monitored and reported back to whomever the MTs owed their allegiances to

Luna was allowed even less freedom, confined to the quarters and only allowed out when the Emperor wished to see her - prying at her about the crystal or worse parading her around like a little doll. If one more man made a comment about the girl being nearly of marriageable age he would not be responsible for his actions.

To make matters worse, Izunia could block him from the Armiger and the magic. He didn't seem to have much interest in doing it all the time - nor in helping Besithia with his neutralizer - but the fact that he might not be able to defend his charge if the time came had made him paranoid. He kept his sword and a small supply of curatives - crownmade - and a small dagger on him at all times. 

Thus far he was sure that his preparations only amused the man.

The only person who seemed entirely content with their current position was the girl's nurse. She spoke to Luna often and there never seemed to be a problem made of her comings and goings.

He was sure she would keep the child at needlework if he were not here.

Luna lifted the practice saber and gave him a sweet smile. "like that?"

He snorted, admiring the scrape she had managed. "Exactly so. Well done. We're the weapon not dulled you would have ended me. How is your grasp of magic?"

She chewed her lip, focused on some far away point for a moment before a tapestry burst into flames. "Mother and I were only working on it. I can only grasp the spirit of fire or healing. But then, healing I was never trained for. Mother said I was a natural."

He put the flames out with a small folding of ice. "I know enough of the others to teach you. Not healing. But ice and earth and thunder. A few others braiding the spells together and tightening them into a protective braid."

She brightened. "Once I am ordained, I can use the Oracle Trident."

Sacrificial power, as much as the ring Regis wore that burned his health away and aged him.

He made a face and Luna smiled. "I will have to eventually, Cor. The king will need it."

"Not if we find some other way." He had dragged the prophecy out of her and had paced away his rage at Regis for not telling him that Noctis was to be a sacrifice to the gods.

She smiled and tilted her head. "Of course."

He hated her patient doubt, the calm acceptance of her death to come. The stories they had been feeding this kid. It was cruel.

"Break over, get your weapon up." He ordered her.

She laughed, but obeyed, and they did not stop until a timid servant arrived with orders for her to be bathed and dressed to dine with the emperor.

For a little while, at least, they were able to forget.


	2. Chapter 2

The Nifs were proud of their prize. Rightly so, he guessed, though it made him snarl. So proud of her that they dressed her up like a doll and paraded her around these…things. He couldn’t rightly call them a party. 

She was poised, he could give her that. Braver than she had any right to be. But with her belief in predestination, this wasn’t where she was meant to die. 

“Scowling again, Mister Leonis.” 

He tensed at the chancellor approached, ignoring the offered glass of wine. 

Izunia shrugged, downing both by himself and placing the empty flutes on a tray as the server passed. “Why so angry? It is a place of merriment, is it not? A party.” The way he drew out the word made his skin crawl. “Those I suppose they must do things much differently in Lucis, hm?” 

“This isn’t a party. It’s a spectacle, only they won’t let her have weapons.” He snapped back, tracking Luna with his eyes, making certain that no one accosted her.

“Why, they let her have you. I would wager you much more useful than the force one small girl can muster?” 

He flicked his gaze to Izunia for a moment, narrowing his eyes. 

Izunia pretended innocence. “I must say that your presence entertains me. But it also…hm… confuses me. Previously, we were given to understand you to be a loyal man of the crown, yet here you are. Surrounded by your enemy with your sword at your side, rather than buried in Aldercapt’s neck. What made you leave your king behind?”

He hadn’t. Or at least he hadn’t meant to. But he had been there to protect, and… His eyes found Luna again, standing next to Aldercapt, face blank and empty of emotion. 

She had come here to die. Not now, not for many years. But she had come here to die, to give herself for the world. He could not abandon her to face that fate alone. 

He was certain Regis would understand. It was not a betrayal of his duty, but an understanding that Luna’s fate was bound to Lucis as much as Noctis was. If he could find a different path for Luna, for the Oracle, perhaps he could find another fate for the king. 

“Hm.” Izunia murmured, thoughtful, watching him as much as he watched anything else. The man had the eyes of a cat. Always shifting, catching movement, and looking for weakness. It was unnerving, but not so unnerving to him as the hand Aldercapt settled possessively on Luna’s shoulder. 

He tightened his jaw. 

“Steady, Mister Leonis. Your reaction will goad him to greater excesses. He already considers the idea of marrying the girl.” Izunia smiled. “One would not wish to encourage him to do it out of spite.”

“She’s twelve.” He snapped. 

“And flowered sufficiently.” Izunia shrugged. “She would not be the first bride to be wedded barely into her adolescents. Nor the last, I would presume. That would create quite the quandary for you, would it not? You are loyal to the girl, but were she the Empress…”

He gritted his teeth and dropped his hand from his sword, forcing it to relax at his side. 

“There now, Glauca was wrong. You can learn restraint.” Izunia looked pleased, no longer looking at him but all around them. “He lost the arm, you know. He is quite miffed at you, and pulled from the field until Besithia can be bothered to craft him a replacement.” 

Something savage bloomed within his chest, pleased. An arm would not bring the queen back, but perhaps it would delay things. It would give Lucis a boon. One less enemy. He centered himself around that idea, focusing inward and letting out a heavy breath.  
He was not a man gifted in this sort of politics. He could – and had – do espionage. But this was not espionage, this was a glorified hostage situation, and he was one of the hostages. Exploding here was worse than useless. It would end up with him in a jail cell if he was lucky and Luna lost amid these vipers. 

He would hold his temper and his actions. He would not allow this to break him.

“There. Much better.” Izunia chuckled, turning away from him. “You are as much a curiosity as she is. Were you to be less foreboding, it is like as not that they would be too distracted by the presence of Cor the Immortal to bother the little dove. Do with that as you will.”

He watched the man wander away, stealing another tray of wine glasses. He didn’t appear drunk, though he had been drinking all damned night. There was something about Izunia that didn’t set quite right with him, and he was uncertain what he should do with the advice. Except now that he no longer held his hand to his sword, he could see the gathered elite circling closer, looking him over, admiring.

He caught Luna’s eye across the ballroom and saw a faint flicker of something tired. 

For his princess, he could do this. Though he had a feeling that ‘mingling’ would be a harder battle by far than any he had faced previously. 

He gave his princess a little nod, and muscle by muscle made himself relax into some facsimile of calm.

The gathered people rushed over him like a tide.


	3. Chapter 3

He stepped out of the car first, blocking Luna from the view of the cameras as he swept the crowd for any dangers. The Tenebreans were crowded around the barriers, desperate for the sight of their heir.

He offered Luna his hand, catching the terrified gleam of her eyes as she accepted it. He squeezed her fingers gently, giving her a little nod as he helped her from the car.

The rush of noise was overwhelming, but the girl managed to stand firm, giving a smile and a small wave to the crowd.

They loved her. They were in love with her. She was theirs. 

She lifted her hand, ignoring the crowd of MTs around then as they walked up the stairs.

Her focus was on her people, soaking up their warmth and love. Reflecting back her own.

The position of the oracle was to be treasured.

He walked slightly behind her, fingers light on his sword. Aware of cameras and press all around. Excited people. But not dangerous, at least not intentionally. Crowds could panic. Might panic. Might be made to panic to give an excuse for the soldiers to take a tighter hold on things. It would be blamed on the rebels. They had used that tactic in Galahad.

It would be blamed on the rebels, and then when the people did rise up it would be pointed to that they had once killed their own.

His hand tightened on his sword, jaw locking, a spell hovering in the back of his mind.

A shield, the strongest one he could manage. He walked just behind her, ignoring the soldiers, ignoring the people except he kept track of both. Every move, every raised hand.

There was a wordless prayer inside of him, not to the gods who had caused all of this to come about, but to some greater power beyond them. A plea for this girl to live through this day as more than a martyr.

The priestess stepped down to meet them. "Only the candidate may continue onward."

He narrowed his eyes.

Luna glanced back at him, terrified. seeking comfort.

"I will continue with her for as long as I can." He returned.

The priestess looked at him, something cold and unwelcoming in her eyes. "It is not allowed."

He gestured to the MTs around them. "This is?"

The cold woman frowned. "It is not their ways to decide the affairs of men, only their chosen vessel."

He knew then that she knew, that this woman knew. She knew the prophecy in its entirety. The gods did not decide the affairs of men, only caused the calamities that befell them. Something dark yawned open within him.

"I will walk with her." It felt like an oath, the weight of his oath to the king. Luna looked relieved, thankful, her lips forming a soundless thanks as she turned back.  
"So be it. Let it be on you then, for no man may walk into the hall of the gods. Not even your king." She stepped aside.

Luna stepped forward, and after a moment of bracing himself he followed. The first step felt like he stepped into a volcano, and the next a hailstorm.

If they thought that pain would slow him at all, they had never met him before. They were going to regret this.

Jaw locked, he continued past the idols of the Six, into the main chamber where Luna must pray to receive their blessing.

Cursed blessing.

_I could smite you where you stand._ A strong voice whispered in his mind.

He kept his eyes on Luna's back, forcing each step, demanding his body take the next, and the next, and the next, until the girl sank to her knees at the holy altar, head bowed forward and concealed.

They could smite him. They weren't. He wondered if she would still follow them with such reckless glee if they did. He wondered if they had doubts as to their power over her.

_Thou art but a single thread among many. A light we might extinguish._

He grinned through the grinding pain, watching Luna's shoulders. Which meant he was right. They weren't sure. All of this rested on Luna's willingness, and in time on Noctis' willingness.

A test of his own soul against the will of the gods. Through the roaring pain that made spots dance in front of his eyes.  
He would not bow to them again.

But he did bow once that day, he took a knee next to the girl as she was ordained, the holy oil smeared over her forehead, the crown settled grandly on her brow.

"They're cheering." Luna whispered, head bowed.

"They see the future, not the past." He took her hand and gave it a small squeeze. "We carry the burden of both. Let them cheer for you, for hope. We will guard what is to come."

She gave him that tragic, broken smile once before she lifted her head and once more gave of herself to her people entirely.  
Fuck the gods.


	4. Chapter 4

Luna was sitting on the floor of her quarters, the fine garb of the day cast off, leaving her in little more than a white shift dress, her hair a cascading disarray around her face and shoulders.

She looked young, lost. 

He set his knuckles gently to the door of her childhood bedroom, and she startled back to awareness, managing a dim, crumpled smile. “Cor.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked gently, stepping inside.

She rubbed her fingers down her arms, then brought them back to nestle at her collarbone, apparently cold.

He unbuckled the jacket he wore, draping it over her shoulders gently. 

She shivered slightly, lifting her head to look at him. “I thought I would find them here.”

The jacket dwarfed her, nearly swallowing her with its weight, but it was warm he knew. Well lined, despite its design. He caught the flash of scrapes on her forearms before she hid them away in his sleeves, clearly despondent. “Did you?”

She shook her head. “It’s cold. Empty. Even the servants are gone. It’s as though…” Her voice broke in a shuddering sob. “It’s as though they never existed at all. As though I created them in my mind, mother, father, brother…A life written into my mind like those…” Her voice trembled, tears welling, face scrunching up. 

“They’re children.” He told her gently. “At least to start. I stole one once, years ago. A boy. He’s as human as you are.” Prompto was, and that was all that mattered.

“That’s worse, is it not?” She whispered. “They are but innocents tossed on the pyre.”

“And will you allow it?” He asked, keeping his tone conversational.   
She lifted her head, brow furrowing. “What?”

“Will you allow it, Lunafreya, Oracle Of Tenebrea, first daughter of the Fleuret line, heir to her majesty the queen?” He quirked his lips a bit, raising an eyebrow. “Or will you change it?” 

She swallowed once, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. “What could I do?”

“I don’t know.” He took her hands gently in his own, studying the red rimmed nails and the bloody scab where she had bitten one to the quick. “Will this help you find out?” 

She drew a shuddering breath. “I cannot be mother.”

“No. Sylva was Sylva, you are only Luna.” He answered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Be Luna, be the best Luna there has ever been. Defy what they think you can be. Be more than they think, be less, too, be selfish.”

She laughed. “At the end of this it will all be the same no matter what. The gods…”

“Is that what you want?”

She looked away, closing her eyes. “Did you hear them?”

“When you prayed? Yeah. They weren’t too happy with me.” He cupped the side of her head fondly. “But they’re scared of you, of Noctis. They have no idea what to do if either of you refuse to be what they have told you to be. So what you want. What you wish for? Take it.” 

She laughed, shaking her head. “I wanted…”

“Oh deary me, am I interrupting? What an odd place for a heart to heart.” Ardyn’s smooth voice raised the hair down his spine. “And the lady is indisposed. My dear guardsman….”

He stood in a smooth motion, hand on his sword. 

“I took it off.” Luna stood, clutching the jacket around her. “I wished to be alone in my homeland.”

Ardyn smirked at him, a dance of darkness in his eyes. “Never you mind, my dear Lady, I wish you and your guard no ill. Though his Excellency will soon be demanding of your presence, and I would not wish to take you before him so unkempt.” 

Luna gulped, and scrambled for the elaborate robes, donning them once more and trying to push her hair into something resembling the plaits she had started in – the work of many hours. 

“Do take care, Cor Leonis. That there are watchful eyes who may well….misunderstand what they see.” Ardyn said brightly. 

“You were watching the entire time.” He growled, too low for Luna to hear. “You would have never let her wander off.”

Ardyn tipped his head. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. I am curious as to the goals you set yourself, Mister Leonis. We shall see what will become of this.”


	5. Chapter 5

He was silent and as still as a statue, listening to the people pacing up and down the hall. Luna had been locked into the Emperor’s study for going on three bells, the guards outside the door had been changed once, but he remained, eyes locked with one of them. 

He switched his target from time to time, making certain that both very human guards felt his ire at being split from the princess. He had been asked twice to leave, but they seemed to have given up the thought that he might. If Aldercapt hurt one hair on her head he was going to kill him. 

The door cracked open, and Besithia came out, looking briefly uncomfortable before skittering off to the hole he had crawled out of. The door closed. 

Izunia was in there, though that was less a defense and more another angle of assault. That was little comfort. Glauca was in there as well, covered from head to toe in his armor.

They still hadn’t managed a replacement arm, and he took some cold comfort in that. 

The door opened again, and the walking monstrosity stalked out, pausing for a moment to glare at him. He couldn’t see the man’s face, but he could feel his ire. He settled for a furious look of his own, directing his own impotent fury at the man. At least a fight might draw them out, return Luna to his protection.

Glauca hissed low in the back of his throat and stalked off, muttering under his breath about “the king’s dog”.

Which left only Aldercapt, his heir, and Izunia within. What matters of state could keep the young princess locked within for so many long hours? He shifted his weight, leveling a look at the door. 

After what seemed like day, but in reality had only been another three bells, Izunia opened the door and motioned Luna ahead of him with a courtly bow. 

His princess looked exhausted, pale to near transparency, lips bloodless from how tightly she had them pressed. There was a vivid bruise blooming on the visible part of her shoulder, and he was by her side in a moment. 

“I’m alright.” She murmured out of the side of her mouth, letting him drape her in the cloak he had spent the hours holding. She gave a little shiver as she drew it closer around her. “I’m alright, Marshal. I give you my word.” 

“General Glauca thought it best she not be allowed to continue her assault on the head of research.” Izunia said pleasantly. “I would have let her take a few more shots. But well.” The man spread his hands, shrugging skyward.

“Why did you hit Verstael?” He asked quietly, shuffling his charge down the hall and away from the office, giving Ardyn a dirty look when the man seemed intent on following them.

“He asked for an allotment from the people of Tenebrea.” Luna said, her voice quiet but furious. 

He frowned. “An allotment?”

“Children. He asked for children.” Luna managed, fists clinching at the edge of her robe. “He asked for second born children, so that he might use them for his research. Only second born, mind. Or third born, were we to lack the stomach for such a degree. He claimed he had done the same when Galahad fell. It was only fitting that my people provide them.” 

“Did Aldercapt allow?” He asked, sweeping his gaze between her and the Advisor. 

“Thankfully, he deemed Lady Lunafreya’s continued capitulation more important than allowing more of Verstael’s infanticide.” Ardyn murmured, pleasant, eyes tracking the girl’s every move.

He drew her closer to his side, though she was stiff and angry.

“I think he admires her spirit.” Ardyn’s gaze landed on him. “He wonders where it comes from, as her mother was ever a passive opponent. Such zeal in speaking for her people is to be admired. To a point.”

Luna’s jaw tightened. “If you think to council me-“

“Never, Lady. You will do as you will.” Ardyn cut her off, giving a small bow. “I bid you goodnight and good morning, my dear Lady. I shall trust your vassal to see you safely to bed.” 

Luna watched him go, bloodshot eyes teary and exhausted. “I do not trust him. But I despise Verstael, so I shall allow him as an ally of sorts for now.”

He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Did you speak up about the troopers?”

She drew a deep, shuddering breath. “He will allow me a few to test my ‘theory’ that Besithia ruins them with his handling. Perhaps a hundred.” She flicked her gaze to his, and he tried to give her as much reassurance as he could muster. “I do not like this. Building another army, for war. You know he will send them in battle to test my success.”

His as much as hers. “I know.” He gave her another squeeze. “Change starts in small moments. Keep faith with me for now, Luna.”

She inclined her head, and let him lead her back to her chambers.


	6. Chapter 6

He refused to wear the uniform. That was where he drew the line. They could collar him like a dog, they could make a mockery of his devotion to the heir of Tenebrea, but he would not wear their colors. 

At least that was what he told himself, clung to with the last fragment of what remained of his pride. He served the king of Lucis, not the Emperor of Nifilheim. 

“A time and place for resistance.” Izunia breathed in his ear. “What do you gain, what do you lose?”

And Luna’s eyes locked with his, lips pale from the way she had them pressed between her teeth.

“A simple change of colors.” The Emperor said, pleasant. “It is after all a diplomatic event. We are at war with Lucis. To have you so attired – and they look so worn, besides. Not the sort of garb that the protector of a princess wears.” 

He was able to pull fresh shirts and pants out of the Armiger, but he was limited, and they weren’t exactly providing a place he could wash his things without there being a very real wish of them being destroyed. 

“After all, we could not want any in Accordo to question your loyalty.”

He would see Clarus, see Regis. After almost eight months, he would be with his brothers. If he bowed. If he capitulated. 

“What do you gain?” Ardyn murmured again, and stepped away. 

Luna looked at him for another moment, somewhere between horror and begging him. 

“Of course.” The words caught like glass in his throat. But they were only clothes, only the trappings of a soldier. A uniform was nothing. He had worn one of the Nifs uniforms before, when he was under cover. What was this but deeper cover? 

“Wonderful. I will see that you are suitably attired.” Aldercapt looked almost gleeful, and Ardyn was watching him inscrutably from under his hat. 

This had the trappings of Aldercapt’s desires, or perhaps Glauca’s. Not Ardyn’s more subtle manipulations. He hated it still, his skin burned with the thought of appearing at a diplomatic event – an answer, finally, for the unjustified invasion of Tenebrea – dressed in the colors of his enemy.

Luna’s shoulders had relaxed, but he could see the line of tension. She was just twelve, so young, too young. But the oracle already and the princess of Tenebrea. Nothing could stop that.

He could only walk at her side. 

He caught Glauca’s eye – Titus’ eye. The man was smirking softly, magitek arm crossed over his real one. He still moved awkwardly around the weight. 

He narrowed his eyes, and Glauca shrugged a bit, clearly disinterested. He wasn’t even bothering to cover his identity anymore. 

“Dog either way, Leonis.” Titus muttered as they left. “All depends on what you value. Your king, or your charge?”

Luna was still standing by the desk, hands pressed against the wood as she and Aldercapt exchanged urgent words, quiet, kept between them and the looming Advisor, not meant for the rest of them. 

“And what do you value, Titus?” He muttered, keeping his voice low, his eyes on Luna. “Your own hide?”

Titus snorted. “No. My people suffered due to Lucis abandonment, just as hers did.”

“And who wielded the blade?”

Titus shrugged, and kept walking away. 

He would wear their colors, and he would guard his princess, whatever the cost.


	7. Chapter 7

He saw Clarus before the man saw him, clearly distracted with Aldercapt, just far enough behind Regis that neither of them would be caught by the other’s weapon. 

Regis looked haggard, like he had aged ten years in eight months, deep shadows under his eyes. He wasn’t using the cane, but he knew the shape of the brace and could tell it was in use. Clarus looked only slightly better, a dusting of stubble on his cheek where he had clearly not bothered to shave. 

He drank in the sight of them hungrily. His brothers in all but blood, his dearest friends. He had never been apart from them for this long before. 

Noctis wasn’t with them, expected, but still troubling to see Ignis bobbing along next to Regis, trying to look serious and failing. 

Clarus saw him, relief and then doubt warring on his face, before finally settling into a deep concern. He touched Regis’s shoulder, leaning forward to murmur in his ear, and Regis looked, a tentative smile curving his lips. 

He had never felt more disgusted with himself than in that moment, under the warm gaze of his friends, wearing the colors of the enemy. 

Luna was dressed in white, but wrapped in crimson as well, the device of her captors on her shoulder. 

His gaze dropped to her for a moment, wordless, and Regis if anything looked more pleased.

Damn the man for being so understanding. 

“He looks tired, don’t you think, my dear?” Aldercapt directed the comment to Luna, though he saw the smirk as the eyes flicked to him. “Old, even.”

“I am told that the weight of a crown demands much of a king.” Luna said, bland, neutral. “The Lucians no doubt feel blessed to have a king so concerned with their welfare.”

Aldercapt snorted. “I am sure, my dear. I am sure that they do. A pity he is a cowardly fool.” 

Luna glanced at Regis, slim smile curving her lip. “Indeed.” The almost haughty power she put into her tone was impressive for her age. “I pity a country that has a cowardly king, unable to fight his own battles. But I have met the king of Lucis, and know him to be no coward.” 

Aldercapt almost drew away, but simply covered her hand with his, squeezing it so tightly he was sure it hurt her. Her face betrayed no emotion, though she glanced once at him as though to tell him to remain where he was. “You have a wicked tongue, girl. I shall look forward to taming it.”

“I have the Gods’ ears, shall you manage?” Luna tilted her head, faint smile softening her face. “My liege?” 

He didn’t like the look Aldercapt gave her, and looked away, catching Izunia’s eye as he watched them. There was no expression to be found on the advisors face, fingers plucking vaguely at the air as though caressing invisible strings. 

The look brought a small smile to his face, a slight bow seeming to spring to his limbs of its own volition, giving him very much the look of a puppet. 

“Let us keep our words to ourselves, hm? You have not learned the wisdom for silence, I will take your lessons into my own hands.” Aldercapt said, perfectly pleasant. “Now, let us go meet this king. I feel this shall be enlightening.”

Luna gave him another small look, just a little shake of her head. 

Do not react. He saw Clarus catch it, saw the bloom of a chuckle that he choked back. 

But he obeyed her silent command and kept his watch, walking in guard step behind her and the Emperor. There were a few Glaive above, he could see the familiar rangy form of Ulric keeping sight of the king as he moved below. What had they done about Titus vanishing? He knew it had been months before the man was even recovered enough to rise from his sick bed, knew that his cover was entirely blown. Who had they promoted in his place? 

For that matter, who had taken his place? There were none old enough of the candidates to manage the entire guard. Was Clarus handling it himself? Or was he at least leaning on Monica?

Monica had the smarts to do it, but he wasn’t sure if Regis would promote her into such a visible role. 

He pondered that as they walked into the conference room, hand resting on his sword, scanning the crowd for more familiar faces. 

“Quite odd to be on this side, hm?” Izunia asked, questing fingers finding his where they rested on his sword and pulling them downward. “So tense.”

“I have reason to be.” He watched Aldercapt seat Luna before he placed himself next to her, again covering her hand with his. “I do not like the way he handles her.”

“Mhm. He’ll marry her, I think. There will be little you can do to stop it. Nor do I think she would ask you to.” Izunia’s voice was soft, hand still holding his by his side rather than on his sword. “He may announce it here. She is learning, our Oracle. Learning fast.”

“She is not yours.” He growled, voice low.

Izunia patted his hand. “Best keep an eye on her, Marshal. There are those here that would rather her dead than breeding a legitimate heir.” 

He gaped at the man as he walked away, hand twisting into a fist at his side. 

But Ardyn had slid into his position at Aldercapt’s other side, and was for all appearances entirely focused on the matters at hand. 

Damn the man, and damn Aldercapt if he was thinking of marrying the girl. She wasn’t more than a month past thirteen, it did not matter that she was the heir of a kingdom he needed legitimate claim to. He bit hard at the side of his mouth and watched Luna’s shoulder, trying to guess if she knew the plan to see her wed. 

Would she go so far in this game of chess that she would allow it? Did she even know what that entailed? 

Gods. Fuck.


	8. Chapter 8

Their return from the meeting had left him with little chance to speak to Luna alone. She had three new assistwnts and an entire closet full of new things, as well as an increased demand to be at Aldercapt's side.

It was almost a full week before he caught her alone, staring at herself in a mirror. "Lunafreya?"

She startled, but gave him a small smile when she recognized who had addressed her. "Cor." She stepped forward tentatively, arms extending until he bundled the slight child into his arms, hugging her close. "Missed you."

He squeezed her shoulders, brushing fingers over her hair. "Missed you too, kiddo. What is this all about?"

She sighed, but didn't step back. "I have been betrothed."

He tightened his arms and she flattened her hand against his chest in a vague warning. 

"To his son, not to him, and we will not be wed until I am sixteen." She explained, voice toneless.

"He's already married, isn't he?"

Luna hummed faintly and nuzzled closer. "I am to be given control of a rank of soldiers. Verstael is to give them to me."

That was better than what he had worried the scientist had wanted. "Are... Luna. We could leave. Even now. I could get you away from here."

The girl in his arms smiled, tucking her head against his chest. "but what would become of my people?" She whispered, fingers twisting into the leather cross strap on his jacket. "I cannot leave them. I will not."

He squeezed hie eyes shut, resting his chin on the top of her head.

Damn the gods. Damn the gods and the fools who followed them. Damn the men who looked at this kid and saw a prize.

Luna was quiet in his arms, breath soft and even. He held her until she pulled away, finding something else to look at while she wiped her face.

"So Verstael is finally giving you your soldiers." He murmered, after the sniffling had stopped.

"Mhm. I was to meet him an hour ago. Which means we should probably go." Her dislike of the scientist was as well known as his of her. The pair hated each other with a fierce pasion he knew amused Aldercapt.

"Do you know anything about them?"

Luna frowned. "He promised a 'range' and that they would be combat ready but not converted."

He huffed. "Let's go meet them, then."

It was pqrt of her plan, whispered between them. Get control of enough soldiers, sew decent amoung what she didn't have. Use it as a wedge to bring Aldercapt down.

It was impressive, and with some fine tuning he thought it might be able to work.

If they could get past Verstael's petty nature.

Luna stopped in her tracks for a moment before contuining forward with a huff of care irritation. "You could't be bothered to clothe them?"

Verstael smirked. "You claimed my process was corrupting them. So I left them as they were hathed."

The hundred has been arranged in ten lines of ten, wet, cold and standing at attention despite the discoloration at finger tips and legs. Naked, male and female, teen at his guess. Though with Verstael involved it was hard to base the guess on apperance. They were still covered in the sludge he grew them in.

"Fine." Luna swept over them with an expression of undisguised disgust. "But if they have been damaged...." She trailed off on the threat. "Leonis."

He stepped forward, covering her uncernity and his fury with the sort of bored tone that he knew infuriated Besithia the most. "Line up. Marching formation. Fall in."

He motioned Luna ahead of him, but she was still glaring at Verstael. "I trust they will be able to eat and bathe with no I'll effects?"

The scenist snarled at her. "If you think I would for a moment risk my professional name on your petty games, Lady Lunafreya, then you have made no effort to understand me at all."

Luna gave one small disgusted nod and stalked back up the stairs.

The clones fell into step behind him two by two.

"Rthe nerve of that man." She muttered to him as they walked.

He turned over his shoulder every few steps, watching for any sign they were damaged. But if they felt pain they were currently concealing it, they were stone faces. "You had them clean out the barracks closest to your chamber? We should start by getting them clean. Work from there."

Luna gave a little nod, lips pressed into a hard line.

He touched her shoulder and some of the tension relaxed, she closed her eyes and let out a small shuddering breath, jerking her head in a small nod.

So much of what they said to each other was silent, guestures and calm, shared between them over the months he had spent at her side. She drew the strength in. "I am going to walk the line and check for injury. Lead them."

He looked at the one closest to him, green eyes staring straight ahead, bare feet slapping against the ground as they walked. If the cold or the nudity bothered them, there was none of it on their face.

He stopped at the door to the guardroom, motioning them to contuine.

Luna appeared at his side, grim faced and quiet. "Can you train them? They do not seem to care."

"Do you think anyone ever cared for them?" He asked her quietly. "did anyone ever ask what they thought?"

"They were made." Luna sighed. "Made for war. He wrote the mind of children. They are my age."

"He did that on purpose." He was sure of it. How close they were to Luna in age was a slight against her. "But it will serve us better than he thinks. Because they have room to grow."

She nodded, sad, quiet. "I hope."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written and posted on my phone! Spelling errors mine.


	9. Chapter 9

The clones had a language all their own. It was theirs, and it resembled a standard Eosian dialect, but it wasn’t quite a standard one.

It came out the most in their names. Grace, Luna’s most common sparring partner, with clear blue eyes and a jaw that was just beginning to pepper with stubble. Because that was him, that was who he was. He was graceful, he was quick. So his name should be Grace. 

Luna knew it, understood it, wove in and out of it like a deft storyteller. She was one of them. One of the hundred and one clones that she called her own. Grace, Aces, Three, Six, Echo, Silvers. Names that had no meaning beyond what they had attached to them. Defined by them as they were. 

He had never asked where Echo had come from, and she had never offered an explanation of it. Three years he had spent turning the gangly clones into an elite fighting force that would rival any in Eos.

But if Luna was a part of things, one of them as clearly as anyone could say, with her golden hair and training clothes no different from what they were. He…well. He wasn’t.

They obeyed him, took correction from him, and looked to him for orders or explanation. But they stopped their loose chatter whenever he walked into the room, straightened their limber bodies, put on the mask of soldiers and forget to be children.

Not that they had ever truly been allowed to be children.

There was the rapid tap, tap, tap of Luna and Grace circling each other. The crowd around them parted, revealing Izunia standing with his arms crossed, and Titus next to him, watching the brutal technique be performed.

Metal staves that could produce an electric current. Luna’s weapon of choice, and so Grace’s weapon of choice. 

They were each as fast as each other, liquid skin and muscle honed to the finest point. Sweaty because they had been at it for a while, but smooth still. The tang was their staves meetings and parting, whip fast. 

“Beautiful. Don’t you think?” Izunia murmured as he came close.

Titus gave him a brief nod, but kept most of his attention on the fighters circling. 

“In their way.” He agreed, pressing his lips into a line.

Luna’s face was locked in an expression of savage joy, and Grace echoed her. They had no eyes for their audience, not care for them at all. This was a game, a hallowed game. But a game for them. Fueled by magic and the quick bodies of the youngsters. 

Gods, he felt so damned old.

He flagged his fingers out, motioning for them to stop. 

They did, and the only reason they didn’t collapse against each other laughing was because of the audience. Grace fell back, letting Luna approach them with him in the distinctly subservient position behind her. 

“General Glauca, Chancellor.” Luna greeted, head tilting as she afforded them a slim margin of respect. “It is not often we see you in this corner of the world. May I be of assistance?”

“I merely wished to see your progress.” Ardyn murmured, smiling. “You do well with them, Luna. Perhaps we can argue for another hundred to be trained? Three years and I doubt even the Glaive would be their match.”

He was never sure why Ardyn backed the princess, there was a reason to it. Some part of a greater plan he could not see. But as to what it was…well. He watched it. 

Luna flicked her gaze to him, brief, questioning. “I would rather they be younger.” She said, finally. “Children, still. So they have a chance to grow.”

Glauca made a noise in the back of his throat. “They’re soldiers, not children.”

“Yes, well. As Verstael shows often they can be brought forth from their chamber at any age that suits his design.” Luna tossed her head, thinning her lips. “Or have you forgotten the child?”

He grimaced, thinking of the tiny thing that Luna had spent days mending. The girl was up and around more these days, but she never left Luna’s quarters. 

“Of course, Lady Lunafreya.” Ardyn murmured. “I would not dream of denying you anything you wish.”

He saw one of the Magitech soldiers lean a bit, adopting an almost listening pose despite its metal frame as Six approached it. 

Ardyn knew what he was seeding here, even if the rest of them didn’t. 

“The Emperor wants your approval on the wedding plans.” Titus muttered, relaxing his posture. 

“I will give it in my time.” Luna tossed a motion over her shoulder. “I have more important duties than the shade of flowers I should carrying.”

“Of course, of course.” Ardyn made a motion, and both turned, leaving the training room.

Luna gave him a look, a long, storied one.

He shrugged in return. “We can take them out, I have approval.”

Her face relaxed into something closer to a smile. “Thank you, Cor. I appreciate it. Before the blizards set in?”

“Next week.” He promised, catching her shoulder. 

She winced a bit. “I’ll ice it.”

“See that you do.” 

That was the way of things here.


End file.
